


Pyrophilia

by absolutelyCancerous (cal1brations)



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: M/M, Pyromania, handjobs, pyrophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-07
Updated: 2012-07-07
Packaged: 2017-11-09 08:16:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/453316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cal1brations/pseuds/absolutelyCancerous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The smell of the smoke.</p><p> He's getting off on the <b>fire</b>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pyrophilia

“Lea! Where are we _going_?”

He doesn’t answer you (of course), merely keeps pulling on your wrist as he leads you through town. Your eyes are drawn to that bag swinging from his right hand, but you keep your mouth shut—there’s no sense in talking when the other party refuses to acknowledge you, anyway.

Lea drags you out to clearing near the edge of town, where he finally lets go of your hand. Curiously, you watch him set the bag down as he sinks to a kneel, diving in wrist-deep, digging around for a moment, before simply dumping out the bag, plus flipping out his pockets (of both his pants and his vest) to empty them out, too.

“Oh, wow!”

You’ve never even seen a firework that wasn’t exploding in the sky, nonetheless so _many_ of them!

Lea glances at you as you sink down beside him, carefully observing his collection of smaller firecrackers that are closest to you.

“Cool, right? Isa helped me get them.”

“How did you even manage to get this many? There aren’t going to be any left for everyone else!” You scold him, jokingly.

Lea just harks out a laugh, plucking a lighter out from inside his sock before grabbing a chain of firecrackers, standing up fully before he lights the tail of the fuse, holding it out and away from him and tossing it when the chain turns to a popping, snapping, crackling mess of smoke, fire and powder. The noise makes you jump—it’s really loud!—but Lea only laughs, throwing an arm over your shoulders as he watches the last of the firecracker die down.

“Fireworks are my favorite,” he breezes, sighing in utmost delight. His arm is still around your shoulders, but you don’t pull away.

Instead, you look at him, see how his eyes seem a few million times brighter at the sight of the explosives. How he’s grinning so wide, you’re half afraid his cheeks might split. But he’s happy, and that makes you happy, too, because Lea’s laughter and smiles are highly contagious and holy crap, when did he get to setting up another firework?

This one’s a box-type, unlike the loud-ass firecrackers from before. Lea’s nearly keening as he strolls out a bit farther away from you to set the thing down, light it, and book it back to your spot, nearly knocking you over in the process.

But then, it’s literally a fountain of color, white and blue and yellow shooting up a good ten feet into the air, showering crackling sparks back down after they hit their peak. Again, you look to Lea, watching his reaction to the show of fire and smoke and it makes you smile. He reminds you of a kid in a candy store, trying to drink in every essence of each solitary ember, to get the full effect of the high he longs for in the rain of sparks.

Lea lights off a few more fountain-like ones (like he’s trying to impress you or something, hah) and you just keep watching him get more and more riled up. Hell, sometime near one of the last fireworks, as he stands beside you with your arms brushing together, you can feel him trembling in euphoria, vibrating in utter excitement.

You’re not sure why, but he looks kind of…stiff. He takes in a breath, deep and slow and heavy, and he holds it for a moment. Then, he shudders as he lets it go, as if it’s some kind of thrill? You don’t see what’s so thrilling about the smoke from the fireworks, but you _do_ happen to see Lea do the unexpected, that’s for sure.

For some reason you can’t place, it honestly surprises you when Lea reaches down to palm at himself through his shorts during his weird breathing-thing. He never breaks eye contact with the fountain, though, just breathes deeply, trying to keep quiet—though you don’t know why because **_he is right next to you_**.

But, hey, you’re open-minded, (and Lea is kind of distracting you more than anything else) so when you step close enough to brush your fingers down his arm, feather-light and teasing, he jumps pretty violently and tries to splutter out a million stupid reasons about what he’s doing.

“No talking,” you mumble (groan). Lea swallows dryly as you rest your chin over his shoulder, sliding your fingers down just inside the hem of his pants, teasing ever so lightly. Lea sighs, huffily, grabbing your hand by the wrist and plunging it into his pants for you, rolling up into your palm hurriedly with a small whisper of a noise.

Lea’s very odd, in his current state. He doesn’t gasp out for air, and he doesn’t make very much noise at all as he ruts into your clumsy hand that tries to get a grip around him—you could if he would just hold still! Instead, he takes in deep, deep breaths, as if he’s trying to get as much oxygen into his system as possible. At first you think he’s just got deep breathing exercises stuck in his head from taking tips from you on the matter, but in a few seconds, he’s sighing out high-pitched noises after every inhale, and then you smell it.

The smoke from the fireworks.

He’s getting off on the **_fire_**.

You’re dazed with the realization, stoking him slowly and very out-of-rhythm, but Lea doesn’t seem to give a crap, because it’s only about half a minute until he’s rutting roughly into your hand, gripping your wrist harshly and his toes curl in his shoes as he comes with a hiccup of a gasp, green eyes slamming open.

After you withdraw your hand from inside his pants (after wiping it on his shorts, because _ew!_ ) you just stand there half-behind Lea, making sure his knees don’t buckle or anything. He leans back on your shoulder, just a little bit, and together in stiff silence, you watch the final sparks of the firework sizzle to the ground and turn into ash.

When it finishes, Lea clears his throat, tugs up his pants to their usual place on his (very lovely pale) hips before he’s turning around to look at you directly. You think it’ll be awkward, looking at him after shoving your hand down his pants, and you just kind of look at the ground for a moment before sparing him a glance.

“Wanna grab an ice cream?”

Just like that, it’s not awkward. It's perfectly fine; perfectly normal. You perk up a bit, smile and nod before Lea darts off, claiming _the last one to get there has to pay! Better hurry, Ven!_

Lea’s a strange guy, but sometimes, a little strange is what you need.

However, paying for his ice cream is not on your agenda. You quickly sprint after him, the two of you rough-housing all the way to the vendor’s booth. You silently note how Lea keeps sniffing at his neckerchief. It'd take an idiot to not know he's trying to smell the reek of smoke from the fireworks. 


End file.
